Chapter 22: The Hunter Management Bureau's Interest
Hunter Management Bureau headquarters, Analysis Room 1.
The wall-to-wall monitors displayed the name Kang Minsu and his recent dungeon records.
"Team leader, his combat record is zero, but every party he's joined has returned safely."
A young analyst swiped through his tablet.
In the ID photo, Kang Minsu looked like an ordinary young man worn out from exhaustion.
The next screen played footage from yesterday's D-class dungeon.
As Kang Minsu hunched and froze in place, the charging horde of monsters collapsed flat on their faces all at once.
"Witness statements match too—even the one about the bat swarm scattering from a single yawn. Hardened
"Testimonies match up, including the one about a yawn scattering a whole bat swarm of bats. It's hard to believe this is an F-class porter's record."
The team leader fell silent for a moment before delivering a curt conclusion.
"Either the measuring device glitched, or he's hiding his power.
"One or the other."
"Summon this guy to headquarters right now. Schedule a rank reassessment."
The analyst held his breath.
The Hunter Management Bureau's observation had now officially entered the verification phase.
"A rank reassessment summons?"
I trembled like a leaf, clutching the crisp envelope from my rundown villa's mailbox with both hands.
The envelope's surface gleamed menacingly with the bureau's signature gold-embossed shield logo.
To: Hunter Kang Minsu
Abnormal metrics detected in your recent dungeon records...
The stiff official letter inside spun dizzily before my eyes, dancing mockingly.
My mind went blank white, cold sweat pouring down my spine.
'What the hell did I do wrong?'
Did they fine me for slacking off as a porter—entering dungeons without carrying gear and just fleeing to the back every time?
Or was it those intermittent mystery deposits labeled 'Viewstream Settlement' in my account, triggering a tax audit for illegal funds?
"Oh no, this is bad. I don't have a single won to pay any bureau fines..."
Mom's hospital bills and loan interest already choked me every month—with a bureau fine on top, I was done for.
Current Viewers: 14,201
The blue window in the corner of my vision showed viewer numbers easily topping ten thousand since morning.
That tale from Gale Canyon—the horned boar herd flopping over en masse before me—had hit real-time best on the Hunter Gallery community, boosting inflows.
I dragged my heavy feet toward the bureau's headquarters in the central district.
Standing before the skyscraper piercing the heavens, my already shriveled heart shrank further.
"U-um, excuse me. I got a summons by mail..."
I approached the reception desk, offering the envelope with shaking hands.
The staffer's eyes widened at my ID and name, then she shot up and bowed ninety degrees.
"Ah! Hunter Kang Minsu!
"Welcome! The analysis team leader is waiting personally in the underground special measurement room.
"This way to the VIP-exclusive elevator!"
VIP? Exclusive elevator?
Why me, a mere F-class porter?
The receptionist's excessive courtesy sent chills creeping up my spine.
This was 100% bad. Something was seriously, deeply wrong.
'Their politeness is scarier. Like they're trying to handle this quietly before it blows up.'
Escorted by the staffer into the elevator descending deep underground to the special measurement room, my legs wobbled so badly I could barely stand.
The heavy security door slid open smoothly, and as I entered, white-coated researchers and half a dozen black-suited analysts encircled me.
"You've had a long trip, Hunter Kang Minsu.
"I'm the analysis team leader in charge of this rank reassessment."
The team leader scanned me head to toe with hawk-like eyes.
His gaze was so sharp I swallowed dryly without thinking.
'Please, just no fine notice. Let me keep my porter license.'
As extreme tension made my lips quiver and I averted my eyes to the floor—
The blue window before me erupted in a mad scroll, flooding my vision.
Viewers are thrilled by your silent protest toward the bureau.
Current Viewers: 15,890
The expectations of over fifteen thousand viewers crashed over me at once.
As I held my breath, the narrow measurement room's air suddenly grew oppressively heavy.
The large air purifier on the wall emitted a bizarre friction noise, malfunctioning.
"Guh...!"
The team leader right in front of me clawed at his tie, gasping raggedly. Thick sweat beaded on his broad forehead like rain.
A few researchers behind staggered, legs giving out, slumping against the cold wall.
"T-team leader!
"Internal mana density spiking abnormally!"
"The space itself is being crushed!"
They panted, staring at me in horror. I wondered if they'd all eaten bad lunch, clueless.
'Did the underground AC break? Why's everyone pale and sweating?'
I cautiously raised a hand toward the massive capsule-shaped state-of-the-art measurer in the room's center.
"U-um, do I just step into that machine?"
The team leader flinched back in alarm.
"Y-yes!
"P-please! Go right in!"
A slumped researcher crawled over, pale-faced, fumbling to open the reinforced glass door.
I dragged my trembling legs into the capsule. The heavy door clunked shut, blocking the stares outside—a small relief.
A shrill whirr sounded as cross-shaped blue lights scanned me head to toe.
'Please don't drop my rank.
If I fall below F-class, no night shifts at the convenience store—nothing left.'
I clasped my hands in desperate prayer, eyes squeezed shut.
Moments later, the door slid open. As I stepped out, a eerie silence blanketed the room—you could hear a pin drop.
The team leader and researchers stood frozen, staring at the main monitor's final results.
In the suffocating hush, no one spoke. I swallowed hard.
"Um... how'd it turn out? Did I violate any rules?"
To my timid question, the team leader slowly—agonizingly slowly—turned to me.
Fear and conviction swirled in his trembling eyes.
"...F-class."
"Phew! Thank goodness!"
Relief flooded me; I exhaled deeply.
F-class result eased my chest. At least on paper, I wasn't the problem.
"See? I'm really just an F-class porter, like I said.
"Misunderstanding cleared up, right? Can I head to my part-time job now?"
I grabbed my gear bag, flashing a relieved smile to leave—
Then the team leader's faintly quivering voice came from behind.
"The records don't match."
"Huh?"
My feet halted at the door handle. He adjusted his glasses with shaky hands, pointing at the monitor.
"Party casualty rate: 0%. Monster preemptive evasions: 17 instances.
"Measured rank: F."
Laughter vanished from his voice.
"One of these three must be false."
No, what nonsense is that?
"No, I'm really F-class! The machine's totally accurate!"
Despite my desperate, wronged shout, he didn't look away from the screen.
"Then the other two records become even more dangerous."
He stepped forward deliberately, gripping my shoulders firmly with both hands.
His eyes gleamed with strange fervor, like sharing a colossal secret.
"So, to properly verify your hidden true power, we've issued a 'mandatory assignment' to a C-class dungeon tomorrow morning."
"...Pardon? C-class?"
My heart plummeted through my stomach to the floor.
An F-class porter in a C-class dungeon? Monster digestive juices would melt my flesh in under three seconds. This wasn't verification—it was legal execution.
"T-team leader! I'll die there for real!
"Please, spare me!"
"We reviewed fatality risk. That's why we attached a national team-level veteran backup squad."
He flipped through papers, adding—
"Just stay at the back like usual, Mr. Kang. We'll monitor on-site variables."
He slapped my back heartily, roaring with laughter.
My vision blacked out in flashes.
I heard my peaceful F-class life shatter completely.